


The Invisible Shed

by ladyroxanne21



Series: Eloped?! [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Draco doesn't know how to deal with being worried, Harry had a bad day, M/M, argument
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:04:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyroxanne21/pseuds/ladyroxanne21
Summary: When Harry returns home after a bad day, he insists on being alone and not talking about it, which ends up provoking a fight.





	The Invisible Shed

The party and Blaise and Pansy's ended up becoming a non-issue. Harry – deciding that he would be too uncomfortable – gave Draco permission to go and have fun. So Draco went. He then spent the next hour lightly sipping on Diamant Bleu Cuvee and watching as people slowly got into the mood and clothes came off.

Unlike the mental image the golden trio probably had, this was first and foremost a prestigious social gathering. Most of the guests had been to previous parties together – both these and properly high class ones. Thus, it wasn't a matter of stripping off the moment they arrived and diving into a mass orgy. Although, Draco _had_ been to one of those as well.

In any case, when guests started swapping partners and favors, Draco couldn't help but picture Harry pushing that witch up against the wall and shagging her senseless under the soft light of the sconce. Or that wizard bending Harry over the back of the Chesterfield and making him take it like an absolute champ.

These thoughts soon had Draco harder than he thought possible, prompting him to give Pansy and Blaise a heated kiss goodbye and his apologies for deserting the party. They understood how everyone else might pale in comparison to the firm arse of an utterly fit (not to mention famous) Auror. Which led to Draco Apparating right next to Harry and pouncing on him.

He had Harry's shirt torn off and his trousers half undone before Harry managed to recover from his shock enough to push Draco just slightly away and gasp out: “Luna!”

“What?” Draco asked in utter confusion.

“Don't mind me. I'm rather enjoying the show,” Luna purred serenely.

“Oh...” Draco murmured in disappointment, turning his head to look at her over his shoulder. She was currently sitting on a sofa with a glass of wine in her hands. Harry had been standing in front of a bookshelf – trying to find a particular book for her – when Draco arrived and attacked him.

“I can certainly wait for you two to finish,” Luna informed them. “Or we can make it a sort of repeat of that time in the dungeon.”

Draco blushed and rested his head against Harry's chest.

“Oh really?” Harry asked with interest.

Draco cleared his throat and turned to Luna again. “If you'll excuse us, I have a pressing matter to take care of with Harry.”

“Does that mean I can't watch after all?” Luna asked with a pout of disappointment.

“Next time,” Draco stated, already dragging Harry out of the library toward their bedroom.

“I look forward to it,” Luna assured them with a soft grin.

Harry blushed but didn't decline. He only felt a little guilty for abandoning one of his best friends so suddenly. That was the good thing about Luna, she was willing to roll with anything. Even Harry dropping everything to surrender to a very aroused and demanding Draco.

 

***

 

Valentine's day passed, and frankly, Draco was extremely relieved that Harry had been sent out of the country on a special case. Otherwise, they would have been obligated to do something disgustingly Hufflepuff. Instead, he, Millie, and Greg spent most of their time on the house.

They'd officially started the remodeling process halfway through January, and were just now reaching the point where they were done deconstructing things. Not to mention the intensive work of going over all the layers of spells – getting rid of anything dark or unnecessary – before adding spells to revive rotting wood or protect it from the effects of age. It wouldn't be long before they could move onto the reconstruction phase – followed by decorating.

Draco helped out as needed because he often had the skill or power to do things they couldn't, and they couldn't bring in any other workers. This was not because Harry wouldn't allow it, but because Draco wouldn't. He refused to allow anyone he didn't trust into Harry's home.

Nearly two full weeks after Harry left to help track down and capture an insane wizard who abducted muggle women, murdered them, and then staged them in public with words like _squib_ or _mudblood_ or _witch_ carved into them – Draco didn't know all the details, but from what he could gather, it was a nasty messy case that threatened to expose their world. Anyway, Harry finally returned.

He completely startled them by Apparating into the kitchen (where they were taking a break for tea) without warning, wearing his full Auror uniform and looking like he might have literally just come from a hard battle. Without a word to any of them, and with his jaw clenched tighter than Draco could ever remember seeing it, he strode out of the back door.

Concerned, Draco stood up to follow him, but Kreacher immediately stepped in Draco's path and waved his hands frantically. “Master Draco needs to leave Master Harry alone.”

“What if I don't want to?” Draco growled at the interfering elf.

“Master Harry has gone to the invisible shed,” Kreacher stated as if this meant something significant.

Draco furrowed his brows. “Invisible shed?”

Kreacher nodded. “It's the place that Master Harry goes when he wants to be alone. Not even Mistress Hermione or Master Ron are allowed in there.”

Draco bit his lip and looked out the window overlooking the backyard. Sure enough, Harry had disappeared. Had Kreacher not mentioned an invisible shed, Draco would have assumed that he simply picked a broom from the garage and gone flying.

“What does he do in the invisible shed?” Draco wondered.

Kreacher looked a bit torn, but since Draco not only carried Black blood, but also had permission from Harry to be Kreacher's master in every way, he couldn't refuse to answer. “Master Harry... destroys things. Shouts... Punches the walls. Casts hexes... Once, when a dark wizard captured Master Harry specifically to make him watch the dark wizard torture and murder an entire family of muggles, Master Harry summoned a few dozen Inferi from the cave where my beloved Master Regulus found that cursed locket, and cast fire spells until they were all burnt to a crisp.”

Draco paled at that. A single Inferius was easy enough to defend against, but since they were rather strong, fast, and impervious to most spells, more than two or three could be a whole lot more trouble than any one person could handle. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how Harry had survived that encounter.

Draco sent Greg and Millie home early, and since they were getting paid an enormous amount for the job in general – rather than paid by the hour – they called it a win and made plans to shag and snuggle and take a relaxing double bath, and it didn't matter which order they did it in. Draco was amused by these plans despite not being attracted to either of them in the slightest. He wished them fun, and then actually allowed himself to picture what they were doing for a bit purely to distract himself from Harry.

When the mental images got to be too repulsive, Draco switched to Pansy and Blaise, but that didn't hold his interest for long and quickly changed into a memory of him and Harry shagging up against the shower wall. This naturally reminded him that Harry was currently in his alone place – possibly with Inferi.

That thought made him stand up from his long cold cup of tea and pace the kitchen. He made another cup of tea, but that one grew cold too before he remembered to take a sip. He tossed it and tried again. Three cups of tea later, Draco was sitting again and staring into the cooling liquid as he wondered if he should firecall Hermione and ask her if she knew what was wrong and what he was supposed to do about it.

Suddenly, but quietly enough that Draco didn't notice at first, Harry opened the door and entered the kitchen. Draco stood up after he felt a prickle up his spine and looked up to see his husband standing there looking at Draco as if he had never seen him before. Or maybe more like he honestly couldn't figure out why anyone – let alone Draco – would be in his kitchen.

“Harry...” Draco began but trailed off when he realized that Harry looked worse than he had before – physically if not mentally.

Previously, he had only looked singed and disheveled. Now, he had at least one lightly bleeding gash on his cheek; the other could just be a smear of blood from the first. He'd removed his Auror robes, and now wore basic black track pants and a white muscle shirt – which would have been damn sexy if Harry wasn't apparently bleeding in places with his clothes torn in others.

“Don't,” Harry stated flatly. “I just want to go to bed – after a quick cleaning charm or two.”

Draco pressed his lips together for a moment, but then frowned. “What happened?”

“I said don't,” Harry growled.

“How can I help you if you don't tell me what's wrong?” Draco asked with a light glare.

“ _What's wrong_ is that I'm exhausted and I want to go to bed!” Harry ground out, sounding like a lion asserting his dominance over his wayward pride. It sent shivers of both apprehension and excitement up Draco's spine.

“Alright, so we go to bed, and while we're getting ready, you can tell me what's wrong,” Draco suggested.

“Drop it,” Harry ordered in no uncertain terms.

“Harry,” Draco said in a firm tone meant to soothe and yet let Harry know that he wasn't going to back down.

“ _I said drop it_!” Harry roared.

This provoked irrational anger in Draco, who couldn't honestly claim to have control over his anger – rational or otherwise – wherever Harry was concerned. “Not until you talk to me!”

“That's rich, coming from you!” Harry yelled with hard and angry eyes.

“What's that supposed to mean!” Draco demanded.

“Just that of the two of us, I've done all the talking! The only thing you can be arsed to say more than two sentences about are this bloody house remodeling, and your sexual history with your precious Blaise and Pansy!”

“What does that have to do with anything?!” Draco roared incredulously since he honestly hadn't had sex with them since Harry had mentioned trying monogamy but made an exception for Draco's best friends. Most of the time, Harry kept him far too satisfied to think about sex with them, and when he _did_ have an opportunity to play with them, he couldn't stop picturing Harry having fun – which turned him on so badly that he just had to come home and attack Harry.

And Harry bloody well _knew_ that!

“Just that you can't insist that I talk to you if you refuse to talk to me!” Harry cried out.

“I _do_ talk to you!” Draco protested insistently.

“No you don't! When I come home, we talk about my day, you tell me which business you checked up on, and then we go shag. On weekends, you natter my ear off about this house. Never once can I recall you telling me _anything_ about yourself!” Harry pointed out, getting fairly loud by the end.

“Well neither do you!” Draco shouted in return.

“Fuck you!” Harry hurled at him. “I've told you _lots_ of things about me! I told Greg and Millie things about me because their your friends and you trust them. I've told _your parents_ things about me! I don't think you've told me so much as your favorite color – which is bloody strange because you'd think it would come up in all this remodeling talk!”

“I brought you to my room and told you –”

“You brought me to your room and shagged me on the bench of your bloody piano, on the fur rug in front of your fireplace, and all over your bed! That's not really telling me anything about _you,_ Draco!”

“Fuck you!” Draco roared because he could clearly recall talking about a few of the changes his room had been through over the years.

“No thank you, I'm too tired,” Harry sneered nastily. “And maybe not ever again!”

“Oh, so _that's_ how you want it? Well fine! I'm out of here!” Draco snarled before turning around and Disapparating.

Harry ran a hand though his hair in frustration and roared. He then kicked a chair across the room as he stomped his way to his bedroom. He didn't even have the energy to get undressed or cast a cleaning charm before he fell across his bed and passed out.

 


End file.
